


Thicker Than

by whitachi



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 18:31:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3579591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitachi/pseuds/whitachi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which methods of qunari breeding are discussed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thicker Than

**Author's Note:**

  * For [serenityfails](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenityfails/gifts).



"Whoops," Iron Bull said as some beer splashed onto the table. Still, wasn't bad for carrying eight mugs.. He sat them all down with solid thunks on the wood and no further incident.

"Sloppy," Dalish said, and reached for the mug nearest to her.

"No gratitude," Bull said as he took his seat. He put his fingers on the rim of the one mug that had a fluffier foam on the top than the rest and neatly slid it over directly in front of Dorian, who made that little disdainful snort that meant he was happy. "No respect."

"Not so impressive," said Skinner, who let her mug thunk against Dalish's as she pulled it across the table. "Saw a dwarf barmaid carry ten once."

"Bah," Bull said, and took a drink while he let his hand settle at the small of Dorian's back. "Probably half-pints."

"Full pints," Skinner said, arching up both her eyebrows.

"Bet she had all her fingers," Bull said, tapping his stumpy pair against his mug.

"She didn't even have thumbs," Skinner said. "Balanced them on her tits."

Iron Bull leaned his head back to laugh. "Well, shit," he said. "I could only manage four or five on mine." That got a good laugh out of the Chargers, and a sweet little chuckle out of Dorian that Bull could mostly just feel through his skin.

Krem raised up his mug to clunk against Bull's. "Thank you very much for taking such good care of us, Mother," he said, his rhythm plodding like the phrase had been drilled into him by a stern tamassran. Like Bull was _stern_.

"Just trying to look out for my boys," Bull said. Dorian leaned in to him a little when he said that, let out the smallest of breaths into his ale. Bull brushed his thumb up along his spine and smiled when he felt him shiver a little.

He covered it quickly, though, snorting. "Maker help us if anyone let you near any _actual_ children, not just this overgrown drunken lot," Dorian said, and the Chargers looked very proud of the description. "They'd grow up with a vocabulary made up entirely of single-syllable crude words and communicate primarily by aromas to fill in the gaps."

"Aw, come on," Bull said, and let his fingers curl around Dorian's hip. He didn't have to pull at all. Just the touch was enough for him to close in the space between them. "I know lots of multi-syllable crude words." He turned his head towards Dorian, dipping down a little. "And you _like_ my aromas."

Iron Bull could see the smile Dorian was hiding behind his mug, and more importantly, he knew no one else could. "What _I_ like is not the topic of discussion," he said, full-on haunty Vint mode, as he lifted his chin up a little. "We're speaking of the moral upbringing of completely imaginary children!"

"Fine," Bull said. "If we come across any imaginary children, I'll let you bring 'em up."

"Eugh," Dorian said, nose wrinkling perfectly. He was so fucking _cute_ sometimes. "No thank you."

"Maybe not so imaginary," Stitches said. "Way the boss gets around, I wonder if any day some serving girl's going to show up with a baby in her arms with little..." He lifted his hands up to his head to make the shape of little nubby horns.

The Chargers laughed, but Bull shook his head. "Nah, doesn't work like that." He took a swig of his beer and grinned. "For one thing, we don't have horns when we're born. I mean, come on, just think about that one for a minute." A portion of the members of the table sucked in pained breaths before it hit the rest of them. "And for another thing, qunari blood is just too strong. Doesn't... mingle well with... the rest of you."

"Lesser?" Dorian said. "Us lesser folk, is that what you were going to say?"

"Mm, I love it when a Vint wants to lecture me on superiority complexes," Iron Bull said. He saw the corner of Dorian's mouth turn up, just enough. "Turns me on." 

"Oh, what _doesn't_?" Dorian said, voice full of distaste as he gave Bull's thigh a squeeze under the table.

"What about with the qunari, then?" Dalish said. "They breed you all out like horses, don't they?"

"Yeah, chief," Krem said. "You ever get put out to stud by the Qun?"

"C'mon," Bull said. "A big, strong, smart, virile piece of meat like me? Of _course_ I fucking was!"

"Seriously?" Krem said, a grin on his pretty drunk face. "Bunch of little Bulls running around Par Vollen somewhere?"

The Chargers were a sea of smiles, but Iron Bull could feel Dorian going still and stiff beneath his arm. "Well, not like they'd have my name or anything, but yeah." He shrugged one shoulder and took a drink. "None of them would probably even be old enough to have their horns yet."

"So let's say, ten years from now, we run into some Tal-Vashoth bandits," Krem said, "and one of them's got an ugly mug like yours and big horns like yours. What would you have us do?"

"Kill him," Iron Bull said, immediately and firmly. Krem's eyebrows went up for a second, but then he nodded faintly. "Breeding is just breeding. Blood doesn't count for much unless it's spilling out on the cobblestones." Dorian was still next to him, but he'd withdrawn just enough by fractions that they no longer touched at any point. Bull let out a small sigh and stood up. "More drinks?"

He collected a few empty mugs from the thirstier Chargers and went back to the bar. When he returned, Dorian was gone, just streaks of foam down the side of an otherwise empty mug to show he'd been there at all.

Bull stuck around for another round or two and made his exit when the boys had gotten into the 'loud singing' portion of the night. He found Dorian's room unlocked, at least, and found Dorian inside sitting in a chair, frowning at a book in his lap.

He gave a small glance up as Bull shut the door behind him. "Mm," he said. "Sorry to have cut the evening short. Had a bit of headache."

"I know how those are always best treated by reading in dim lamplight," Bull said. He made a little grabby gesture with his hand. "C'mere."

Dorian huffed out a sigh and put his book aside. Iron Bull had a strong feeling he'd been staring at the same page for a long time. As soon as he came into arm's reach, Bull curled his hand around the back of his neck, rubbing his thumb into the curve of it. Dorian closed his eyes and let out a small grunt as he wavered on his feet, coming in closer to Bull.

"Better?" Bull asked.

"I suppose," Dorian said, and let his head fall forward to rest against Bull's chest. Bull could feel his brow still knitted against his skin, but just kept stroking his neck, long, steady sweeps of his thumb. 

It didn't take long. Dorian hitched in a breath and then held it for a moment, that tell-tale moment of hesitation before speech. "Is it really true?" He lifted his head up, and Bull stopped his stroking. "You have children?"

"Technically, yes," Bull said.

"How many?" Dorian asked.

"Can't say," Bull said. "I just did my part. The easy part. Didn't really get a lot of follow-up about whether it took or not."

Dorian's upper lip twitched, not quite forming a full sneer. "And that doesn't bother you?"

"It doesn't," Bull said, because it didn't. "Think of it like one of those purebred little dogs you Vints keep. None of them are thinking of their pups once they're whelped."

"But you _aren't_ a dog," Dorian said, and Bull kept back the comment that that was a really kind and thoughtful thing for him to say. Wasn't the time. "You are a thinking, intelligent man." _That_ was even kinder. Bull would show his gratitude later.

"It's just different, with the qunari," he said, letting his palm rest spanning Dorian's shoulder blades. "I didn't know the people who made me, and they didn't know the people who made them, and that's just how it is."

"How is that..." Dorian's fingers twitched a little bit, curling upwards. "How is that possibly acceptable?"

"Blood's just blood," Bull said. "Makes you big, or makes you quick, or makes you handsome, but doesn't make you who you are. That's up to who raises you." That made Dorian's face fully twist and Bull let out a sigh as he brought his hand to Dorian's cheek. "I've got a funny feeling this isn't really about me."

Dorian looked away from him, pursing his lips. "Perhaps not," he said. He closed his eyes and his nostrils flared as he let out a breath. "It's just... very different."

"It is," Bull said. "And sure, I think it's a better idea than all you people getting brought up by whatever assholes happened to spurt you into existence, but..." He brushed his thumb over Dorian's cheek as he smiled a little. "That's just how I was raised."

Dorian looked sidelong at Bull through his lashes, and he could see that his eyes were soft, now. "Raised into being a foul brute," he said, and now his lips were curling up in the way Bull liked to see.

"You wouldn't want it any other way," Bull said, and put his arm around Dorian's waist. "C'mon." He got him over to the bed, settled quickly into their usual easy position of Dorian curled at his side, head pillowed on his chest. When his hand settled against Bull's stomach, Bull let his hand fall atop it, curling in around it.

"For what it's worth," Dorian said after a long while. "I actually think you wouldn't be that bad at it."

"What?" Bull said, a chuckle formed in his chest. "Being a tamassran?" He couldn't say he hadn't thought of it, if things in his life had shaken out somehow differently. Wouldn't have been that bad. 

"Being a _father_ ," Dorian corrected. 

Iron Bull snorted. "Just sounds weird." He brushed his hand up along Dorian's back and smiled at the contented sigh that got out of him. "But thank you." After a moment, he laughed. "I promise if any kitchen girls show up with any big, ugly, bumpy-headed babies we'll take very good care of them and raise them up right."

"No," Dorian said. "Foul. Awful. Wholly rejected. Leave me out of it." For all his voice was sour, Bull could still feel his mouth curving into a smile.


End file.
